These Star Glistened Skies Chapter
by LazThePoet
Summary: Dipper, sad, alone, desperate for an ear to listen in on his innermost feelings. He feels he has no one to confide in, no one to know what he goes through every restless night. There is one that feels she can understand. She left her dimension based on the fact she went through everything Dipper is now. But she came to this world misunderstood. Her name is Illcy Ber. aka Bill Cyper


These Star Glistened Skies

A/N: I thought this was gonna be a one-shot of Dipper feeling alone and writing poetry But I have so many great Ideas to go with this. I think it will be a super-talented lyrical singing Dipper story. Also I had the Idea for a Fem!BillDip story for awhile. So this is it. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1. Illcy Ber-Her True Form

I find myself here again, trapped between an inability to sleep and insatiable loneliness. Mabel, my dear sister who is always there for me, is always near to lift me from my lowest lows and cheer me on during my infrequent highs, lay sleeping in a wonderful dreamland.

Where she finds an easy route to the day ahead, I rarely find my escape within the meager hours of sleep. While everyone rests I do nothing but play with my thoughts.

For every what if and could have, there is always a major roadblock in my pathetique pursuit. My pursuit is not pathetique in that I fail in finding happiness, it's the fact that my pursuit is for a quiet contentment.

I hope for this solace in a yonderly wish for anything but this solitude I find myself in night after night. But what I find, is that my mind cannot contain a happiness in this seemingly infinite loop of smiling, putting on my happily meager facade, and feeling so utterly alone in my sleepless nights.

So I look out our strange window in the attic, and think to myself, what a beautiful night to write and have another night to myself.

It's just turning on 3 in the morning, as I silently grab my vest, secret poetry book, and secret pack of cigarettes, I make my way downstairs with the silence of the ever resting. I decide to grab my guitar as I pass it on the way out.

Once I make it to the couch that sits on the front deck, I do what I do every night. I pull out a cigarette and gaze at the sky, waiting to light it when I feel the time is right. Tonight the sky is pristine with the stars lighting the way to a better place.

I feel now is the best time to begin so as I open the book in which I write my most secret feelings expressed in poetry, I strike a match to light my cigarette. In a way, I hope this lights my path to a better outlook on life every time I put my pen to paper.

I begin

(Italics is Dipper's writing)

 _It's another time within another night_

 _Sitting beneath These Star Glistened Skies_

 _Again I try to find my light_

 _And await the time for the sun to rise._

I feel these words not just in the form of poetry, but within my soul. I know poetry is supposed to elicit emotion within a reader, but for me, it's to express what I do not wish for others to know.

 _It's another Night with each passing day_

 _Where I must express what I chose to hide_

 _In bed no sleep if I lay_

 _In no ear I fear I'll ever confide._

It is my fear that this is my life. It is my fear that I will always be alone. It is my fear to let others know that I fear so much. I am always afraid that those I let in, will only want out. I take a drag of my cigarette as I wipe a few stray tears and continue.

 _It is times such as these that I must wonder_

 _WIll anyone ever stay?_

 _Just like these star glistened skies I'm under_

 _How long until they go away?_

I put out the cigarette in the pitt cola can I hid behind the couch. After I do so, I feel the tears fall freely as I write the final stanza.

 _So as I wait in my own way_

 _Hoping for a better tomorrow_

 _I'll lay in bed til comes day_

 _Silent in my infinite sorrow._

I feel my tears run dry. I reach for my guitar knowing nothing could wake Grunkle Stan nor Mabel But the light of day. After tuning the instrument, I look up to the stars just as I do before writing.

As I am about to begin, I notice a faint yellow gleam off in the woods. Anger fills me as I am in no mood to deal with a certain interdimensional demon.

I'm ready to ignore his presence as best as I am able, then something quite unsettling occurs to me as Bill walks into view.

It is not the mere fact that he's walking, or bears the form of a human. It's the fact that _he_ is a _she._

A/N: A friend, ChaoticDurdle, gave me a great idea to write in third person to amplify the feeling of the poetry. I unfortunately wrote this chapter already and am late for NaNoWriMo so I will be writing basically three stories at once. please, review and bare with me! I love hearing thoughts and stuff. constructive stuff. unless it's praise or the like. until next time. Laz Out.

P.S. CHECK OUT AFORMENTIONED FRIENDS STORY WORLDS APART ITS EVERYTHING AND MORE NOT ENOUGH ADJECTIVES TO HELP ME HELP YOU READ THIS STORY.


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